The View From/Baldwin Place; Astronomy Photographer's Passion For Recording the Things in the Sky

By LYNNE AMES

Published: January 25, 1998

BALDWIN PLACE—
WHEN Rick Dilsizian was 13, he was obsessed with two things: astronomy and dinosaurs. He is 51 now, and one of those passions is still burning strong. Every chance he gets -- virtually every night that is not marred by clouds or rain -- he goes out in his backyard here, sets up telescope and camera, and takes pictures of planets, stars and comets. Additionally, he has traveled to all ends of the earth -- Australia, South America, Africa -- to chase eclipses and the better views of things in the sky.

His work has been published in Astronomy, the Observers Guide, Sky and Telescope and other magazines. He has had shows at various galleries. By profession a professor of computer sciences at Westchester Community College, he said he loves and takes teaching ''very, very seriously,'' but it is the astronomy that touches the metaphysical side of his being.

''It may sound corny but I really do feel inspired when I look at the stars,'' he said. ''And I realize how insignificant we are. I also feel that by taking pictures, recording, say, the passage of a comet like Hale-Bopp, I'm contributing something to history, to mankind. Hundreds of years from now, when people are doing research and look in the archives of a certain comet or planet, they will see my photographs.''

El Nino's influence has not been good for Mr. Dilsilian. On two recent nights, photography sessions had to be canceled because of fog and rain. Very cold, very clear weather is what he waits for, nights when the sky is studded with stars that can be seen by the naked eye. These conditions afford good ''transparency,'' he explained: The atmosphere is more transparent --that is -- less filled with clouds -- and the camera can better capture stars, comets and nebulae outside our solar system.

Interestingly, clear yet sultry summer evenings, when the air has some humidity but not enough moisture for clouds or rain, are the best for photographing heavenly bodies within our solar system. Because of a complicated interplay of light and the earth's atmosphere, the moon and the planets come out sharper and clearer on film if the pictures are taken on hot humid nights. In Mr. Dilsizian's work, science and esthetics are involved in complex interaction.

''There is a lot to know, a lot to remember and always a lot more to learn,'' he said.

Mr. Dilsizian, who grew up on the New Rochelle-Scarsdale border, got his first telescope when he was 13. A few years later, he watched television as John Glenn orbited Earth in a space capsule. (He thinks it's ''fabulous'' that Mr. Glenn, now in his late 70's, wants to do it again.) Soon, he was ''getting a natural high -- forget about drugs'' scrutinizing the sky from the rooftop of an apartment building in Scarsdale.

''When you first start, what do you look it? You look at the moon,'' he recalled. ''It's like, you never had ice cream, you start with vanilla, you get a taste for more, so you go on to strawberry, then coffee, then banana splits. So, after the moon, you look at Venus. It's very bright but is also cloud-shrouded. Then you go on to Jupiter. Through a good telescope, you could actually see Jupiter's four moons -- Calisto, Io, Europa and Ganymede. Think what that was like for a 14-year-old kid.''

Or a young adult. At Case Western Reserve College in Cleveland, Mr. Dilsizian majored in astronomy. Then came the Vietnam War. Although he was morally opposed to it, he said, he joined the United States Air Force R.O.T.C. program. ''I thought maybe I could eventually become an astronaut.'' Instead, he was a second lieutenant, stationed for five years in California and Hawaii, doing work with satellites that was so highly classified he cannot discuss it today.

When he re-entered civilian life, he got a job in data processing for Westchester County; a short while later, he was offered a position teaching computer science at Westchester Community College. He also began taking photographs and buying telescopes. Currently he owns four, a 14-inch one, an 8-inch, a 5-inch and a 3-inch.

In astronomy photography, Mr. Dilsizian explained, ''You are essentially using the telescope as the telephoto lens of the camera.'' In the easiest method, known as prime focus, the camera is simply attached to the telescope with a device called a T-ring.

The ''piggyback'' method, which is more complicated, involves attaching a camera with a telephoto lens piggyback style to a telescope. ''You guide the telescope, on which the camera is attached, to get the proper exposure,'' he said. The earth's rotation, he added, makes it appear that stars move from east to west in the sky; to compensate for this apparent motion and insure against the stars coming out on film as mere slits, the telescope and camera are moved electronically.

Another, more complex variation is called off-axis guiding; it involves a mirror and a second eyepiece and lots of skill and patience. In it, as in all astronomy photography, exposure time is critical and can range from a fraction of a second to a couple of hours.

For most viewers, however, the how to is not as interesting as the results. Mr. Dilsizian has thousands of black and white and color photographs of famous and obscure celestial bodies and phenomena.

Among his favorites are the deep red, fan-shaped Orion nebulae, ''swirls of nebulosity'' within the Orion constellation. On a clear January night, one can actually see this with the naked eye,'' he said, ''although it will appear greenish. Green is oxygen; red is hydrogen; the naked eye can only pick up on the green, but the camera lens can 'see' the red hydrogen.''

Another ''very pretty'' photograph, he said, is of the ring nebulae in the constellation Lyra. It is red, blue and yellow, a combination of gases. He also likes Hale-Bopp, the double-tail comet with one yellow tail -- dust -- and one blue tail, which is composed of ions of sublimated gas. And, there are the ever popular, orangish, intriguing rings of Saturn, which he has captured on film many times.

But ironically, perhaps the most beautiful stars he ever saw were with the naked eye. ''I was in Hawaii, and I'm sitting on a hill, it's pitch black, overlooking the ocean. I see the Milky Way -- this huge cloud of stars -- stretching down into and looking like it is fusing with the Pacific Ocean. It looks like the stars and the ocean are meeting on the horizon. It was the kind of haunting beauty I'll remember all my life.''

Photos: A picture of Andromeda Galaxy, closest similar galaxy, taken by Rick Dilsizian, left, an astronomy photographer, who is shown with two of his telescopes in the basement of his home in Baldwin Place.